


A Historian Wondered

by Panic_at_the_bookstore



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: F/M, burn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-05-03 16:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14573223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panic_at_the_bookstore/pseuds/Panic_at_the_bookstore
Summary: This is a fanfiction for Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler (Hamilton).  Eliza wakes in a cold sweat with one question burning in her mind, "Does it hurt?" Eliza is not talking about death, she's talking about the pain you cause others. When she asks Alexander, he breaks down before her. Alexander doesn't know what to do or if his Eliza will ever be his again.





	1. Does it Hurt?

“Alexander!” My voice tore from my throat, rough and fear filled. Terror ran through me as I watched the bullet lodged right between his ribs, and watched him fall. My vision blurred, the world fading away from my reach as tears pooled in my eyes. The scene was horrible, it tore at my heart like someone had embedded a bullet there themselves. I ran to him, my hand resting on his bloody gun wound. “Shh… I have you… please…” Alex did little but groan and reach up to rest his hand on mine, simply as if that little movement pained him beyond anything in the world. I knew deep down that there was very little chance of survival for him, almost none but I didn’t want to stop believing, I didn’t want to give up hope on him, he didn’t deserve me giving up on him.  
“Eliza… take your time. I’ll see you on the other side…” Alexander whispered, coughing out blood, I watched it drip down the side of his mouth, I wiped it away. No matter how hard I tried, I knew this was the end and all I could do was keep it together while he died in my arms, while he went still and heaved his last breath. A scream tore from my throat, raw and agonizing. One that words couldn’t describe, could never do justice to the sound.  
“Eliza…! Eliza!” I felt hands shake me roughly, my head flew upward as my eyes broke open, the dim lighting provided no comfort from the nightmare, but as my head swung up it collided with another, both of us reeling back, cursing. As soon as my eyes focused in the dark room, I noticed Alexander leaning over me, and everything else melted away from me. All the fear and terror of the dream, all the pain and heartbreak of the waking moments, all I wanted to do was to hold him and have him to hold me, forever. A tear tracked down my face and I buried into his chest, he’d gone stiff, not knowing what to do in the situation, not knowing how to react. He recovered at a decent speed, wrapping arms around me and holding me to his chest. I didn't yet know who was holding me, after all, I'd begun to get used to closing my eyes alone and laying in the haze of loneliness of the bed that was once ours. For the time being, though, I was glad for my rescuer, if I had to stumble through another one of those dreams waking the kids another night, I don't think I'd be allowed to sleep in this house. I wondered to myself, why did dreams of him dying still tear me apart? Why didn't I just wish him to Hell and close my eyes, burn the memories out of my head like I did those letters? I knew why but I'd never say it, not to his face, not to anyone's face. After my family found out, all-Hell had broken loose and everyone wanted me to get out of that house and far away from Alexander as possible, but some part of me didn't let me do it. Didn't let me pack up with the kids and move back in with Daddy. I don't know why but I just know that I needed top stay, it was Gods will and in such I'd remain with the suffering. “Shhh my love, I’ve got you… Shhh…”  
“Does it hurt?” I whispered, a haze surrounding me, my head pounding and heart racing, but this is a question I needed to get off my lips, one I needed to ask.  
He cocked his head and looked at me, pushing me back so he could look into my eyes, “What are you talking about love? Does what hurt?”  
“When you think about me and all the pain you’ve caused me? All the Hell I’ve had to pay to save your ass over and over again? Does it hurt when you think about me and know I can never love you the same way again? Did it hurt when you heard my heart breaking as I read every single word on the Reynolds Pamphlet? Does it hurt when you realize that if anyone asks me if I’m ok I’ll tell them that ‘I’m used to it’? I hate sitting by while I know you had the guts to destroy everything I stood for, to leave me broken and alone, to tell the whole world before uttering a word about it to me? Do you regret it? Would you do it again? Because whatever you feel is like a drop in the ocean in comparison to my pain. One day you’ll understand. Do you know why I’m still here? Why don’t I contact my father right now and file a divorce on grounds of marital infidelity? Because I still love you! I can’t stop loving you no matter how much I want too, I can’t! So was it worth it, Alexander Hamilton?!” He went cold, his expression blank and his hand shaking softly, I knew his heart was pounding and he swallowed, I watched and I looked at him, a piercing, heartbroken look in his shaded eyes.  
“I-” his voice cracked, eyes darting away as tears filled them painfully. “Eliza… Yes. It does. It hurts every breath I take, every heartbeat, every happy couple I see. It does hurt. And I know you deserve so much better than I can provide and I wouldn’t blame you if you left…”  
“It’s all your fault,” I stated matter-a-factly. “You brought Hell upon yourself.” I knew how cold it sounded but for some reason, it needed to be said, needed to be expressed.  
“Eliza…” Alexander began but I sat up sharply, tears that had pooled had begun to pour from both our eyes.  
“No. It’s Elizabeth to you thank you. Can you please leave me be before I have to move to sleep?” I felt the tears fall and I knew he wouldn’t put up a fight. I was right, Alexander simply nodded and rose from his perch on the bed. He looked back at me when he reached the door. On a normal night where the affair didn’t hang between us like a fog, he would’ve kissed my forehead and rocked me to sleep, but not today. He looked sorrowfully at me like he wanted to but he simply turned, sadness in his eyes, and started to leave the room, throwing his voice softly over his shoulder.  
“Goodnight, Elizabeth Schuyler. Sleep well,” the door closed and tears fell from my eyes once I was alone in the concealed room, Alexander has gone from my sight. Why wouldn’t he leave my heart? Why couldn’t I stop loving him? Why does it hurt so much? Why? Why? Why? I cried myself into a restless sleep for the tenth night in a row.


	2. What Hurts The Most?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza is trying to cope, but how can she when it feels like her world is falling apart?

August 28, 1799,  
The Grange; Outside  
I knew from the moment that I arrived on the doorstep that something was off. Something just wasn’t right, and I felt it in my soul. Maybe it was the way Philip stood outside, nerves on high alert, or maybe it was the way Alexander paced and spoke to Philip in a rushed tone. It could’ve also just have been the vibe the house was giving off. I glanced up as I arrived, all my other children chased each other around the gardens, this was Alex’s way of watching the children, not that I approved it much at all. Both Philip and Alexander looked as I approached, Philip himself turned toward me in greeting and nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Welcome home, Mother,” his tone respectful and voice soft. I smiled brightly at my 18-year-old son. His hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, his outfit spotless and I gazed upon him and I felt myself shiver despite the heat. He bore the closest resemblance to Alexander out of all I children. He must have shared Alex’s brain too because he was no dull boy, he studied at King’s College, much like Alex, and had proved to be just as striking and brilliant. Nevertheless, I put my hands on his cheek and kissed his forehead fondly.  
“Hello, Philip. I didn’t know you were coming home so soon. Is something wrong?” I glanced between the two as I stepped back to look at them both, my face going serious. Alexander looked at me shyly and lifted his head to speak.  
“Nothing, Elizabeth. I was just talking to Philip about his studies,” Alexander groped for a reason that wasn’t the true one on why as to why he was pacing the deck and speaking frantically to our son, Philip wouldn’t meet my gaze.  
“Alexander, I appreciate and can acknowledge that you think that this is a conversation to complex for a woman,” Alex cast his eyes down and blushed but I pushed on, “but don’t you think you shouldn’t keep any more secrets? Lest you plan on telling the whole world before me once more by means of the press.” I turned on my heel and walked into the house, closing the door tightly behind me. I’d begun to feel the pressure build behind my eyes again and I swiftly headed to our- my room. I reached into my bureau and dug out a single piece of paper. The handwriting that decorated the page was flourished and elegant and added to my tears. I traced over the words on the page, fingers hesitant, my eyes just as shy to read the words.  
Eliza Hamilton,  
My love, no matter how busy I am I'll always have time to write back to you. Laurens has just arrived back at our camp though he’ll be departing to South Carolina shortly while I shall be heading to Yorktown in a day or two. Lafayette is sailing with a fleet of French Army ships and is going to meet us at Yorktown. Forgive my short and quick letter but this may be the last letter you receive before I get to Yorktown myself and will have little time to write. Washington has a plan to finally end this war and I feel quite ready to come home and be with you and Philip. I can’t wait to wake up holding you, my love. I will come home, I won’t abandon you and no one can take seeing you again from me. Regardless, I send you my will because Washington wants all of us to be prepared for the worst even though he hopes for the best. I love you so much, Eliza. I'll fight for you, our children, and our new nation but I'll make sure to stay safe for you.  
Ever yours and only yours,  
Alexander Hamilton  
“Ever yours and only yours…” I knew now that I was crying, for the pressure behind my eyes broke and I melted down to the floor, clutching tight to this letter and I felt the hot tracks where the tears had made their way from my shy eyes. The tears burst from my eyes like water from a dam, spilling down my face. I feel the muscles of my chin tremble like a small child and I look toward the window as if the light could soothe me. There is static in my head once more, the side effect of this constant stress I live with. I never knew but this pain has worn me to nothingness. It takes something out of me I didn't know I had left to give. That's the way it is when people are hurting I guess. It's like a theft of the spirit, an injury no other person can see. When I rid Alexander’s letters from my life, I felt like I couldn’t burn this one. For some reason, I felt as though I had, in my own respects, deserved to keep one letter even though he betrayed and hurt me in the worst way possible. I walked to the window after hiding the letter again and propped it open to look down on the gardens below. Everything reminded me of him, every song a bird sang, every strong gust of wind, tore at my heartstrings like the claws of a beast. The tears, now that they’d begun, would not stop falling. I frantically tried to wipe them away because I would not let myself break again. I had a family to take care of, a life to lead, I had to pretend that I was okay… I was okay. I am okay.  
Standing by the window, I and my existential crisis. I can't stop loving him and I don’t know why. He betray my affections and left my heart in shattered disarray of pieces. Every single time he steal a part of me he made it utterly impossible for me to put myself together completely again. Maybe it wasn’t stolen though. I gifted myself to him and he abused it. And yet, I always come back around to him with an open heart and clear thoughts. Why is that? Actually, you know what? I don’t care. He can take me, he can take my heart, he can take the hearts of a million and it would never be enough for him. His heart can't love anything but itself. When Alex smiles, and it's intoxicating. His fingers brush through my hair, and it's addicting. He laugh, and it's contagious and I melt at the sound. Him and his damn flirtatious self. He knows what he’s done to me. And I hate it. I hate not being able to go to him like I use to, and to suffer alone even though he says he still loves me. After last night? It wouldn’t be hard to believe that he loved me… I want him to love me even though I know that’s selfish.  
A cool breeze disturbed my thinking moment and I looked up to see the children running around, Philip playing with them. Alex is gone.  
“Eliza, If you like my “yours and only yours” then I shall ensure every letter I send ends that way because no truer words were ever scratched onto paper in the history of man. You asked if the painting would make me smile, but I’m always smiling when I write these letters to you, they keep me sane when I’m away from hearing your beautiful voice.” I drew in a sharp breath and felt my lip tremble again.  
“Don’t… Please don’t.” I whimpered pitifully, clutching the window sill as though my life depended on it, and watched as the tears stained the wooden sill surrounding my hands. "Stop this torture. Don't..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for staying with me throughout my long break! Finally done and I feel so happy about that! Anyway, I think I like where I'm going with this. This chapters a bit more emotional as I'm sure you've realised. I know this one is also short but I felt like you guys deserved SOME sort of follow up seeing I've been gone for so long. On the plus side, my favourite TV show, "Heartland" just became Canada's longest-running family drama with 125 episodes and 12 seasons. I recommend. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed and I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner and have it be longer! Thanks for reading!  
> -H


	3. When Hell Comes To Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all have places to go, but something tends to stop us always. This one is from Alex's perspective.

August 29, 1799,  
Fort Stanwix: In Alex’s Tent  
“John, I feel like I messed up something fierce… I miss you, I still mourn your death after how many years now? 18 years? Wow… I think I’ll head to South Carolina soon. I have to begin fortifying my men for threats that will surely come up, while I’m out here with my men, Congress is in the process of moving the capital down in the south, Virginia specifically, I believe it was Thomas Jefferson who first asked for it to be moved… yes, it was, I keep forgetting what being a Congressman feels like now that I’m back on this battlefield, but I was there when he asked for it to be moved. I think a part of me just wants to go down to South Carolina and see you again even if you’re not really there. I see you in everything, you know… Philip, when he smiles, the flowers in the spring, the horses galloping along in the fields, the church bells ringing, and the blessed sound of birds singing, my soldiers, our uniforms, you get the idea… I want my Eliza back, I really do… I love her more than life itself and sometimes I give into the part of my mind that screams, you’ve lost her forever you idiot! I asked to talk to her yesterday, just the two of us talking, she said I’d have an hour tonight. I’m nervous as Hell… I miss you, John, I’ll say hello to South Carolina for you if I head down there eventually. Until then my dearest.” I closed the letter and sealed it tightly, brushing back a stray lock of red hair from my face. I glance around my tent solemnly, thinking. I found myself doing this a lot recently, just thinking.  
“Major General Hamilton, sir? We have a problem. There’s a major threat of war with the French on the horizon seeing they’re in their own revolution. President Adams wants us to move into France but General Washington would rather we wait. He is high chief of the army but I was told to take it up with you, sir.” Lieutenant Westing said as he pushed open the flap to my tent, his face fully attentive and alive with a watchful expression directed towards me. Nevertheless, he bowed as he walked in as a sign of respect. I raised my head and sighed heavily. I reached for my glasses that sat lightly on my desk and put them on to look at him with tired eyes. Westings moved towards the front of my desk as I gestured for him to approach and he dropped the letter he was holding, spinning it so that I could read it easily. I skimmed it quickly and I felt annoyance rise in me but I couldn’t understand it’s source. I began to feel my personal life leaking into my work life, I quickly brushed it away and sighed deeply.  
“What more do those damned Congressmen want from us? All they do is sit in their offices safe and sound and yet debate fervently about the lives of my men as though they were nothing more than a fly in their way. I’ll begin writing back to the Congress immediately I suppose. It’s the only way to get things done around here. Lieutenant Westings, can you give this letter to the postboy for me while I work on this?” I glanced up at the Lieutenant who looked down at me and nodded curtly, with he took the letter I was offering between my two fingers.  
“Sure, I’m going that way anyway. President Adams and General Washington are waiting on you sir, so whenever you can get back to them, give me a call and I’ll run the letter to the postboy,” Westing said looking at the letter and I saw a small smile play on his face. “To France? Marquis de Lafayette, I’d assume?”  
I smiled, “Yes, sir.” Lieutenant Westings gave a genuine smile and turned, leaving the tent flap fluttering in the wind behind him as he left. I watched him go before rising to my feet and walking out of my tent to look around myself. I stared at horses pulling a small cart of goods into the fort for the soldiers, my men bustling about, laughing and talking while walking away from tent to tent and around the fort. The birds flew above our fort, calling out songs to other birds and some of our men’s horses nickered and snorted back and forth to each other while tied up. Some of my men fixed their bayonets and swords absently before turning and walking with the other soldiers. I turned and entered my tent to began to write my letter to both General Washington and President Adams. About an hour and 40 pieces of failed letter papers decorating my desk later and the floor in agitation, a call jarred me from my warring thoughts. “Come in,” my voice was weak with exhaustion. I pulled my glasses off my face and wiped my eyes that were heavy with fatigue. The door opened and I looked up seeing General Washington himself, shocked I blinked to make sure what I was seeing is real. “Your Excellency, forgive my fatigue.”  
“Don't worry, son. I have something to ask you,” he reaches my desk and rests his hand lightly on the end, he looks down at me.  
“Anything, General Washington, sir,” I rise to my feet swiftly, and somewhat awkwardly, once I realise I’m still sitting, he motions me to sit, I oblige thankfully. He sits across from me, which I’m also thankful for seeing he’s a whole 8 inches taller than I am when we’re standing.  
“France claims we’re in debt to them, but again I’m sure you heard that Adams wants us to attack at France but you know I don’t want to go forward and into thins headfirst.” I shook my head violently while he spoke.  
“No. I don’t want our men to be sent into France into a blind war that wasn't ours to begin. Plus, James Swan signed off on the final finishing payment of the debts to France in 1795. I remember, sir. I was there. Have President Adams speak with Mr. James Swan if he wants evidence to my claims. We don’t need to go to war with them. Their country is already in shambles with the slow down and the aftermath of the bloodiest revolution in all of history. I don’t want to get our men involved, sir.” I finished as I looked over the desk at Washington. He looked at me proudly and I felt myself fill with happiness, I’d said the right thing. Washington smiled at me and nodded.  
“Wise man, Major General Hamilton. Thank you. I’ll report to Adams immediately,” Washington rose and nodded in a final parting and I smiled to myself. I got up and walked to a mirror on the wall to check over my uniform. I stared at myself in the mirror, my brow slightly furrowed as I scanned over myself. My tricorn hat that should be atop my head was held tightly in my right hand, my hair tightened into a professional looking ponytail. My lightweight metal gorget was wrapped around my neck topped with a soft stock to keep the metal from view. My off-white waistcoat clung to my body over the white linen shirt I wore, pressed and free of wrinkles, despite how I constantly moved and such that should have wrinkled the shirt. A blue coat was placed fittingly over my waistcoat, it was not done up but it still allowed me to look like I should. The collar folded stiffly to show off the stock around my neck. My lapels on my shoulder were black with gold buttons atop them, three full-length stripes (also a gold colour), and two stars shone on the opposite end of the lapel from the button. They marked my rank; Major General. My breeches were light beige and gathered just below the knee where dark brown stockings took the rest of my leg until they covered by my black tall shin-high boots. I felt like I was staring in the mirror at someone else, someone who wasn’t me. Wasn’t me at all. I shook my head softly and a found myself looking sadly at my reflection. I would have to leave now to make the ride on Mepkin back to Eliza if I had any hope of reconciling with her. I nodded softly to myself. I went and picked up a sword and fit it around my waist so I had a blade on me should anything happen, not that anything ever does, to be honest, I get bored being a Major General at times even though the last thing we need is a war.  
“Hamilton, you fought in the Revolution. This should be nothing in comparison,” I stared at myself, stone-faced in the mirror. Determination filled through me as I stared at the reflection. “It’s only Eliza… she’s not that scary… Who am I kidding?! She’s terrifying!” I bury my face in my hands in surrender and groan softly before lifting my head up and looking at the flap of the tent and sighing heavily. “Here goes nothing…” I walk to the flap and step out into the fort to look around. I walked to Brigadier General Hayes and nodded to him. “Brigadier General Hayes! A word?” He walks over immediately and salutes to me, I salute back.  
“Yes Major-General Hamilton, sir?” Hayes’s uniform was sharp as his mind. He looked at me respectfully and I knew my men were going to be left in capable hands.  
“I need to take leave for the next night or two and I trust I can leave the men under your command should something occur?” I look at Hayes and he nods sharply. I allow a slight smile to show, one that had been tugging on my lips whilst we spoke.  
“Yes, sir! Of course, sir!” Brigadier General Hayes salutes again as I motion him off. I begin to walk to Mepkin only to find him not in his stall. I walk to the stable boy, if I don’t leave now I’ll be late and Eliza won’t take to that kindly, I’m already on thin ice. “Marshal Parker!” I barked, I didn’t mean to come off as harsh, but I had somewhere to be. The boy turned swiftly, he was awkward and lanky, nevertheless, he saluted to me.  
“Yes Major-General Hamilton, sir?” Parker said, his voice trying to hide its quake, I knew I’d probably had frightened him, I don’t usually speak to him.  
“Where’s Mepkin? My personal horse? I need him, now.” I said swiftly and looked down at him. His eyes showed that he was deep in thought then he gasped to himself in remembrance.  
“Backfield. I’ll get him now, sir, and tack him up,” Parker said and turned to grab the tack and run to the field.  
“Hurry yourself, Marshal! I don’t have all day!” Parker began to sprint and I paced. I thought back to when John, my closest friend (ok maybe more than a friend, but I’ll take that to my grave) had gifted me with the best stallion at Mepkin Plantation before The Battle of Yorktown. I named the stallion after his home, Mepkin, it seemed only fair. I remember John’s face lighting up with happiness when he saw my positive reaction to the stallion, my shock and happiness. I remember how proud he looked when I rode the horse into the camp and was given praise for the horse, but how flustered he looked when I directed the praise to him. His cheeks would flush and he’d look away to avoid the eye contact of those who sung his. He would run a hand through his hair as he sputtered a thank you and then cast me a look while I smiled at him. He once told me that I may as well have hung a sign around Mepkin’s neck and have written, “John Laurens bred me this horse! Go praise him, not me!” John would complain, only half-heartedly, that I was embarrassing him or that he didn’t like to be pointed out, at which time I would smile and reply with something along the lines of, “I’m not embarrassing you, and even if I was, you know you like it.” The distant sound of a falling bucket drew me out of my recollection from the past and back into cold, hard, reality. I sighed heavily and looked at where the noise had come from but saw nothing aside from the overturned bucket and soldiers going over to upright it. I sighed heavily and shook my head but my attention was suddenly, sharply drawn back to the area of the bucket when I heard a gag and a gasp then calls outward to the rest of the camp. Someone burst from their hiding spot in our fort, a blade must’ve been hidden up their sleeves as blood decorated the area where you would hide a blade on his sleeve. The blood of one of my men. The rogue bounded into the camp, moving so swiftly and efficiently that he made himself virtually impossible to shoot. On his jacket there was a flying bird all in black, it was small but visible.  
An assassin. “Men! Stand your ground!” They were rare of the sorts to find, especially one with the skill to break into a fort. I solemnly wondered how many more men had died due to this man. He must’ve known the inner workings of my fort to get in without a hitch. I watched him move and silently cursed myself for thinking we’d be safe, especially so soon after the Revolution. There’ll always be those who oppose the victor of a war but then you have those who, not only oppose it but have the skills to act out upon it. I knew of the blackbird symbol because a General in a fort a little further down was just killed by an assassin, one who left a small, dead blackbird outside the fort and one of their blades. It was most certainly the work of a skilled assassin. Dammit, I should’ve fortified the entrance! No time to relive that now though, no, now the lives of my men were on the line. Lives I wasn’t willing to lose to some small town rogue assassin.  
I loaded my gun and grab the sword that I thought to fashion myself with before I left my tent, thankful I did. The man moved swiftly, barely receiving a scratch, all the while he stabbed at my men, at least three fell dead. The assassin climbed the far building and swung himself behind a chimney. My men began to chase him but I called a halt. “Wait!” They all drew to a stop and looked at me. I motioned them to my side and behind me and silently ordered them to load their guns and slip behind their covers and surround the building. They did so swiftly, drawing little to no attention to themselves, I felt proud of them. “Whoever you are up there, I’m going to warn you now. We have you surrounded. You come out now or I’m afraid you won’t be coming out at all.”  
For a while the world was silent, no one dared move or breathe. Then, “Major General Hamilton, is it? Christian name, Alexander. You must forgive my intrusion, although, I have to admit, I’m amazed you’ve cornered me. While you’re all standing there now, I implore you not to blink. For if you do, you might very well miss me.” I can hear the smile in the voice, but one thing unnerved me. The voice that spoke wasn’t belonging to a man. “Would you like to hear something insane, Alexander? If I may call you that? Oh, who needs permission, right? You’re in no position to be making demands anyway. Do you know that if you are one person and you kill a small handful of men silently, it makes you an assassin while killing millions makes you a conqueror? Oh, but killing everyone,” she paused and stepped out from behind the chimney. She let her hood drop and revealed it was indeed a woman I was speaking with. A smile danced on her lips as she finished her thought and loaded a gun, pointing it at my head, “well, that makes you a god.” A bullet fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quoted Beilby Porteus in this. This one is longer. I hope you liked it. Yes, I ship Lams and no I'm not ashamed. I really am happy with this one. It's only half historical but it's more for the fun of it. Alexander was, in fact, a Major General in 1799 so that part is real. Pretty much everything else, aside from minor details here and there, are made up. Comment and share!


	4. Lets get these teen hearts beating faster, faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza has two flashbacks while waiting for Alex. Sometimes it hurts to rememeber...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex's backstory is in this chapter. Just a disclaimer, I hate when people cruelly call others, "whore" or "slut" but for the sake of the stroy I had to call his mother a whore. It irks me, I can't be the only one so I'm telling this ahead of time. Have fun reading!

August 29th, 1799  
The Grange; 9:30pm

I paced the foyer for what must have been the 100th time. Alex was late. I knew he was miles away and most likely just got caught up but he was still late. Not a good first impression. I collapsed back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before letting my eyes close and voicing my thoughts and concerns, “Do I ask too much of him? Am I too hard on him?” I heard the crack of the fire from the fireplace and I turned my head, popping my eyes back open and yawning gently. I rose from the couch and walked to the fire, sitting before it in a trance, I watched as the flames danced with each other in a shy manner so they never truly touched. The movement could be analyzed as a flirtatious meeting and with that thought, my brain tumbled back 19 years.  
“Eliza if you move one more time while I’m trying to do up your hair…” I vaguely registered the voice of my mother as she rambled on and stabbed my head with another pin. I hated wigs. I’d rather just go out with my normal hair done up in its usual fashion than have to have pins jammed in my head at a painful rate. I couldn’t help it, I fidgetted as I got another pin to the head. “Elizabeth Schuyler! You are helpless!” My mother yelled in exasperation and threw the pins angrily on the dresser before me, looking at me in frustration through the mirror. I shrunk under her scrutinizing gaze.  
“I’m sorry mother… I just dislike wigs. I don’t understand why I cannot just my normal hair up nicely for this ball and be done with it.” I looked up at her through the mirror and she sighed shaking her head, “Mother… I just don’t understand how we can bathe in luxuries whilst half America withers away in poverty and starvation and a quarter fights to secure our rights to, as Mr. Jefferson said, ‘...life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.’ How come we still throw our money and food down the drain to parties and wigs and fancy dresses? I could be sewing right now to make families blankets. Or studying to help in the medical fields with Aunt Gertrude. Or cooking for the poor and hungry.”  
“Hush now Elizabeth Schuyler! No more talk of nonsense like this. It’s time to grow up and face the world like a woman and not a silly little girl and that is why you must wear your wig. No more fuss. Leave the worrying of war and the country to the men and let us stand by.” Mother went to fix my wig again after heaving a sigh, “plus, your Aunt is lucky she’s married. With those shenanigans she pulls helping those soldiers… She’s in constant danger.”  
I pull myself away from my mother and turn to face her, “I disagree! She found a man whom she could love and he returned the love, furthermore I don’t plan on making my marriage a priority. I am not Angelica! And shall I marry-”  
“What do you mean “shall you marry”?! You will be married Elizabeth Schuyler, or I will force a marriage upon you! Your father and I know you’re not Angelica and we gave you more freedoms in the marriage department. But don’t play fool, you will be married if I have to box you into a marriage!” Mother cut me off and turned me back to the chair to finish my hair.  
“You wouldn’t dare. I will marry who I wish to marry and your opinion will not influence it in the least!” I spat back and mother finished my wig.  
“I’d watch my tongue, Elizabeth. Before it works you into a corner. Now, lower your voice, powder your face, put on a smile, get your dress fitted properly,” she motions to the corset that wasn’t tightened to its fullest, “and get down to the party. I already let you wear a plain dress, you won’t pull at your wig tonight and you’ll be a respectful and beautiful young lady looking for a wealthy, respectable, man to marry. Go be your charming self my dear daughter and don’t scare away your suitors. No witty remarks, play it nice and you could end tonight being courted by the perfect man. Wealthy enough to keep you comfortable your whole life, smart enough to know how to handle you, and handsome enough to make others jealous.With any luck, he’ll be here tonight. You just have to find him!” She closed the door behind her as she left me in silence and I sighed, tightening the corset and beginning to powder my face.  
“Put a smile on your face… Be your charming self…” I mocked quietly and finished the preparations rolling my eyes at the girl in the mirror. “I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before and I hope to never see you again.” I turned abruptly from the mirror. “I’ll marry before New Year if the “perfect man” does show his face here.” I exited my room and ran into Angelica who looked me over and broke into a smile.  
“Eliza! You look beautiful. You’re lucky. You’re still looking for a husband and Papa didn’t just tie you to a man he enjoyed the company of,” Angelica was talking about her husband, John Barker Church. He wasn’t a bad man, in fact the two did get along quite well, I like him being around just as much as Papa does, and Angelica would never admit to Papa she actually loves John. The only thing was Mr. Church was an English businessman selling weapons and such to the Continental Army and General Washington, (who would be at the party tonight with Mrs. Washington) but he didn’t see the point in the Revolution and remained on the quiet side, selling weapons and protecting himself but not picking a side and fighting.  
“I’m not going to be married, Angelica. I told you. They will just break my heart. I’m tired of heartbreak and I’m tired of talks of marriage and men. After tonight I will stop looking for a husband!”  
“Looking?! Eliza, I don’t think you ever truly looked for a man in your entire life. Not seriously,” Angelica teased and smiled at me. I pouted out my bottom lip and glared at her. I knew she was right.  
“So what?! I will not marry. Just you wait. And I’ll make a bet on it,” I knew Angelica loved bets and I felt myself smile as she got the look of challenge in her eyes.  
“Go on…”  
“Should I find the man I want to marry tonight, I will be married in under 12 months. And I’ll actually look for a man tonight.”  
“Under 10 months. If you find the one you need to be married in under 10 months and I’ll admit I was wrong about you. If you don’t, I’ll find a man for you. Deal?”  
“Deal!” I felt myself smile brighter as Angelica hugged me again. Suddenly there was the striking opening notes of the string orchestra and Angelica’s head shot up and she squeaked.  
“Oh goodness, I need to be downstairs now or Mama will have my head! You know when you need to enter right?” Angelica said frantically checking to see if she looked presentable still. Sometimes I felt like these affairs were theatre performances. I have yet to be in a ball that I didn’t have a specific time when I was to enter the room.  
“Yes, this isn’t my first ball, dear sister. And you look stunning as always. Now go before Mother has a fit!” I ushered her away and she nodded and took off swiftly to enter the ballroom like an elegant goddess in a way only my sister could. I, myself, walked to the top of the spiral stairs to await my cue. I watched the going-ons below from a hidden spot on the overhang. Two songs drawled by and finally it was obvious all the important guests were there because I heard my father’s voice loud and clear.  
“Everyone, please turn your attention to the stairwell and welcome my daughter Elizabeth Schuyler,” I heard hushed conversations when they realised that I wasn’t married. I walked myself down the stairs elegantly, head held high and analyzing the people below. I allowed a soft smile and wave a few guests. Many men bowed and took my hand to kiss it when I was on the main level. One man caught my attention though. He was also the only man in the room who hadn’t turned to automatically take my hand and kiss it, but there was something intoxicating about him. I watched as his eyes met mine and he bowed his head. It was strange, it was almost as though he didn’t know if he was allowed to approach me or not and by meeting my eyes, he was asking that very question. I nodded my head softly hoping he’d see it. He smiled but shook his head softly and gave me a sorrowful and apologetic look before giving a half bow and turning to vanishing into the masses of people. I soft look of hurt crossed my face and I looked down. Suddenly all of the men greeting me meant nothing because I needed to know who that man was, obviously important enough to be admitted here. I had to know him. I walked amongst the crowd, mingling and talking to a few of the men there, laughing and smiling when appropriate, dancing on the odd occasion with a man that actually struck me as interesting but I couldn’t find the mystery man and it was beginning to annoy me. I knew he must be avoiding me and it annoyed me, the first man I was actually interested in and somehow I couldn’t catch him. I guess I would never be enough after all.  
“Eliza, darling! Come here, this young man wishes to make acquaintance with you,” my Mother called to me and I turned, foolishly hoping it would be the mystery man. It wasn’t. But it was a decent looking man. I drifted over to him, smiling gently. He had a soft face, not too childish, he was definitely late 20s early 30s, but even so, he was remarkably handsome. His eyes had a sort of curiosity that bloomed curiosity in me and even I had to admit, he was well built and very nice on the eyes. I curtsey and he takes my hand, bows, and kisses my hand.  
“John André, Miss. Schuyler. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I have heard tales of your beauty, wit, and grace amongst the men and yet not a single story does you justice,” André smiled gently at me and I blushed at the flattery, knowing my Mother was watching my every move but even I had to admit, André was charming.  
“His only fault is his coat, I’m afraid Mr. André is a redcoat,” Mother sighed sadly, “but I’m sure that could be changed once you marry him.”  
“Marry him?! Mother, we just met!” I turned, aghast, to look at my Mother, who just smiled and blinked innocently.  
“Well, I’d consider him a candidate. God can forgive him for sin of coat but he’s wealthy and quick as a whip. I would consider it,” Mother protested and smiled.  
“Forgive me, Miss. Schuyler. My intentions are for your hand but my coat would stand between us. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be swayed to be a Patriot ever, I’m loyal to His Highness, but do not fear, I would commit myself to you and you only should you allow me to court you. I needn’t ask for your hand though, only a dance,” André offered me his arm and I smiled politely.  
“I’d consider it an honour, sir,” I took his arm as he lead me to the dance floor and we danced slowly and lovingly. Our motions sure, he was a remarkable dancer, even I had to admit that, his smile was beautiful and infectious. Two songs later, we bowed and parted.  
I began my search for the right man again now that André had left me to dance with other women and test the waters to see where he should strike. I felt a sort of pang in my heart, a longing for someone but I didn't know who. Only that I wished them to hold me and kiss me and take away my fears. I’d never dreamt of my first kiss, I was not like that, I rather spend time with Prince n the stables helping horses give birth, or out in the fields with the snakes and other animals, or going with Papa to the meeting of the Seven Nations. Yet, standing in the ballroom at 22 years of age, I longed to kiss a man I did not know yet. “Eliza,” a voice drew me out of my thoughts and I plastered on a smile prepping myself swiftly, “I’d like to introduce you to, Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton. He’s General Washington’s aide-de-campe and he strikes me as someone you’d enjoy the company of,” Papa (Philip Schuyler) walked over to me with a man tailing close behind him. Behind him out of respect, Mr. Hamilton must be lower in the ranks then, I concluded. I was about to go into my usual flirtatious act when Alexander Hamilton decided to look up and look me in the eyes. My eyes widened because before me was the mystery man.  
I was at a loss for words, all the lines I had memorized and vowed to recite when I greeted new men looking to court me, slipped my mind and I couldn't find a sound to describe my emotions. My thoughts. He was incredibly handsome, even more so up close, yet there was something foreign in his face, something wild that made me want to lose myself in him. He seemed at the same loss for words, we both struggled on greeting because I could tell we both felt something was between us. I knew if Mother were here instead of Papa, she'd have my head for not curtsying and introducing myself to Mr. Hamilton already, but Papa seemed to sense the feeling between us too and he just smiled. Alex regained himself before I did and dropped to a bow before taking my hand and kissing it. “Miss. Schuyler you must forgive me. I was at a loss of words upon seeing you, and that's a rare thing,” he smiled and I felt my heart melt. It was gorgeous, much like him, and his voice… So enchanting. It felt like I was being drawn into him with every word. His accent was so very handsome and I couldn't help but blushing genuinely even though he only kissed my hand. I wanted more. “Your beauty is told all around the camp, but more so your kindness. I respect that, but I shouldn't do all the talking, I'm very interested to get to know you if you don't mind getting to know me, that is.”  
“Mr. Hamilton, sir, let us get to know each other on the dance floor. I believe we could start there,” I said gently and smiled. He looked at me for a second, then a grin broke out on his face.  
“Are you asking me to dance?” Alex looked amused and I smiled challengingly.  
“Well should you wish to fight for my hand in marriage I expect you to dance. And yes, I am asking you to dance, Mr. Hamilton. So shall we?” I motioned to the dance floor and he chuckled and offered me his arm, which I gladly took.  
“Then let us dance and get to know each other. I do hope you're not as charming to every man you meet because I fear I will lose your hand,” he kissed my hand again causing me to gasp in gentle surprise and blush in flustered happiness, “to another. And I can't bare that thought.”  
“We'll see Mr. Hamilton. I think you might be at an advantage here out of all my suitors though,” I commented and admired his dancing ability. He was soft and smooth and very sweet. Every movement felt more intimate than the last and I loved it.  
“Why is that, Miss. Schuyler?” Alexander asked as he spun me. I smiled devilishly as I returned, pressed against his chest. I knew Mother would be mortified if she saw how close we were, after all we'd just met.  
“You possess a charm. I think I enjoy your presence more than I enjoy the others. They've bored me or itemized me. You do none of that. I feel you wouldn't mind if I spoke politics or if I told you that I planned on aiding in the war effort. I feel as though you wouldn't scoff if I told you I would rather be sewing blankets right now to give to families that have lost their homes and friends. Or studying to help in the medical fields with my Aunt Gertrude, inoculating soldiers so they can fight and tending in sick rooms so I can provide hope for the injured. Maybe hold the hands of brave men who are dying and read them a story so they don't die alone. Or cooking for the poor and hungry that were made victim by birthright and circumstances and have done nothing to deserve this, have done nothing to be given the life they lead currently. And I'd gladly marry a soldier as long as that man knows that I have a life to live just as he does. And I will protect and love him just as he will protect and love me. I do intend to make roots and start a family but I also need to find a man first who can allow me to live while we thrive together.” I'd obviously said too much because he stopped dancing and just looked at me. Then he pulled me into a hug and I gasped but didn't pull away. He was warm and inviting and I felt a sort of safety in his arms that I always longed to feel.  
“Miss. Schuyler please allow me to see you again after tonight. I don't think I could bare another day without you in my life…” Alexander sounded serious as we shifted back into dancing.  
“Are you asking to court me, Mr. Hamilton?” I asked, butterflies filling my stomach.  
“Yes. Yes, I believe I am, Miss. Schuyler. I know I am but a penniless orphan from the West Indies and you a rich Northern beauty from Albany, but I beg you to give me a chance and in time I'll prove to you I'm more than an orphan,” Alexander had a look of begging in his eyes. Not desperate but begging. I smiled gently as the song drew to a close and I touched a hand to his cheek feeling the rough stubble there from the while without shave.  
“Then you must call me, Eliza or Betsy,” his face broke in a smile and I couldn't help but smile in return.  
“And you must call me, Alex, my dear Betsy,” I couldn't help but hug him again.  
The memory fade and altered to another. One from the same year but the day he asked me to marry him.  
“Eliza, love, come sit with me,” Alex smiled up at me as I slipped out of the house and onto the porch where he sat. I drifted over to sit by him, my head falling on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around me and I looked happily up at him.  
“Thank goodness you stayed. I don’t think I could take another minute of Angelica’s rambling and feverate debating. It does annoy, you know?” I sighed in relief as Alex tightened his hold around me, my eyes fluttering upward to lock eyes with him. He looked back at me with raw love and devotion, the kind that I rarely see in the eyes of men when they look at their woman, whether it be wife, betrothed, or him courting her. I felt the love that hadn’t dulled since that day at the ball, despite him coming and going due to the war.  
“Mmm… I’d imagine so,” he rubbed my shoulder with his hand and I felt a blush creep on my pale, powdered cheeks. “Eliza, I need to ask you something but before I can ask you, you need to know something about me that I don’t tell anyone, aside from a select few.”  
I tilted my head and watched him, processing the words slowly but surely, “yes, Alex? I’m listening…”  
“I never told you why I’m an orphan. I had- have, I don’t know anymore, a father but not really. In the laws of St. Croix, I didn’t own the rights to call him father, not that he ever was one to my brother and I, because my brother and I were born out of wedlock… My mother was first married to a man named Peter Lavien. They had one son, Peter Lavien Jr.. Her husband abused her because she wouldn’t “behave” or do what he told her to do. He had her arrested and kept in a small cell in St. Croix because he thought that would break her. It didn’t. She just grew to resent him in more ways than I thought possible. She ran away from him, moved islands and met my “father”, James Hamilton. He was a Scottish merchant, his elder brother had received the wealth when his father died and James came to the West Indies to search to set up a sugar plantation, in other words, he’d come to strike it rich despite the fact seldom few men actually achieved that dream on the “sugar islands”. He met my mother and they had an affair, she was a beautiful woman, and so came my older brother, James Hamilton Jr. and in time, I came as well. Peter Lavien, technically still her husband, filed for a divorce on the grounds of my mother “whoring around behind his back”, and he got exactly what he wanted. Peter and Peter Jr. got everything and left my mother penniless and broke and worse, they had to courts ensure that as a punishment for being a “whore” she was never allowed to remarry, condemning James Jr. and I to be the illegitimates that we are, forever. Soon my so-called “father” left and my mother was alone to raise two sons. She set up a small store where she made her money, from her parents she had a few slaves and some money so that’s how we started. Eventually we had to sell our slaves off and I had to go work in the store with my mother. Then it happened… My mother… she died on the island of a terrible fever, one I caught myself. It took the lives of so many and yet… left me alive to suffer. After the funeral, the court gave everything she had to her eldest son even though she asked that nothing was given to the Laviens’. My brother left me, I was alone and taken in by Thomas Stevens. He was a nice man and then the hurricane happened… I wrote something and long story short, I ended up at King’s College. So if you don’t want to stay with me because you’ll be labeled as the respectable woman with the bastard orphan son of a whore and a Scotsman…” Alex looked pained, he let go of me in the middle of his story at some point. I looked up at him in shock and affection, something shimmered in my eyes, tears I assumed and I carefully wrapped him in a hug. He looked at me nervously, hugging me back.  
“I don’t want to leave you, I won’t ever leave you. You are so much more than that… So much more… Alex, I love you. I love you for you,” I look at him lovingly. He had tears in his eyes, hugging me and looking me in the eyes fondly.  
“Elizabeth Schuyler… Please feel free to say no but,” he gets up and gets down on one knee and I gasp, “will you do me the honour of marrying me?”  
“Yes… Yes, yes I will!” I felt my eyes well with tears and his hand grasped mine, slipping the ring on my finger with such care that I felt the love run through me in that soft movement. I wanted to kiss him, I felt it would be only fitting, but my lips had never actually touched another's whereas Alex had probably kissed many. He leaned toward me and our lips brushed, at first just a brush then it became more. He kissed me and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below my ear, his thumb caressing my cheek as our breaths mingled. I ran my fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us and I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest. This was all I wanted, all I ever wanted. My words were softer than air and I spoke them like never before, our mouths still so close that we both felt the movement of my lips as they shaped the words, “I love you…”  
“My darling, dear Eliza… I love you so so much more than anything ever.”  
“GODDAMMIT, ALEXANDER HAMILTON!” I felt my legs give out and I fell to the floor in a beautiful mess. My dress panned out around me and my head fell into my hands, hair falling and encasing my face.  
“Mother?!” Philip rushed in and threw open the door to the foyer, he was worried about me since the Reynold Pamphlet publication. Sometimes I felt like the only reason I was still functioning was thanks to my son. This wasn’t supposed to be how this worked out, I was suppose to hold him while his heart broke or he cried. Instead he came running from whatever he was doing to comfort me.  
“Pip… I’m okay,” I went to get up but my son just sat by my side and dropped his head on my shoulder.  
“Mama it’s late. You should go to bed…” Philip had an arm around me and I let loose a soft sob.  
“What if he’s not okay? He should be home by now… What if-?” Philip shook his head violently, cutting me off gently.  
“Father’s okay. He just probably got caught up or they didn’t let him go. I heard a rumour that General Washington was paying a visit to the camp today. He probably had Father doing something for him and you know father can’t turn down General Washington. He’s just fine,” Philip smiled gently at me and I nodded shaking softly still, body tired from the emotional and physical strain Id taken from the Reynolds Pamphlet.  
“I’m sorry, Philip… this shouldn’t be how it is. You shouldn’t be taking care of me, I’m your mother. I have a family to take care of, a life to lead, I’m okay. I am okay. He’s not worth the extra energy,” I tried to talk myself into letting him go, God knows he deserves it. I saw Philip’s eyes widen softly, but he covered his worry well.  
“You love him, Mama. Just… do what you think is right because while I think you deserve more, I know Father can give you everything if he comes back to himself. He’s lost and what he did… inexcusable. And he’s paying for it. And don’t you worry about me or the family. We understand how hard it’s been for you and we will always be here for you. Always. Even if you don’t think so,” Philip smiled gently at me and my heart swelled. He was the best son anyone could ask for.  
“Oh Philip… Thank you for keeping me together. I’ll wait for your father until the ends of time and forgiveness… we’ll see...” we quieted to listen to the world in a comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that you got some background, what do you think? Philip is so pure I'm so sad that he dies young and I'm trying to keep him alive for as long as possible. Now, I didn't do the wedding as a flashback but I can make that possible you just need to let me know, please. I did make the one where they met a lot long than the proposal but I felt like that one needed a clear explanation. I felt as though I began to slip myself into Eliza so if she doesn't seem like you imagined her, it's probably because I unintentionally put myself into her. I would like some sort of feed back, this chapter took a lot longer than the other and forgive me for that. I've had a rough summer composed of a 10 month puppy dying and a bad fall and a few terrible arguments. On the plus side though, I'm also going to see Hamilton Labour Day Weekend!!!! (Yay) Also I saw Brendon Urie on Friday night (July 27th, 2018) so that was nice. ANYWAY! Please follow and share, it would mean the world to me. And even one comment would make my whole day better. I would like to know if you want the wedding and wedding night or just leave it. I do take suggestions and prompts if you want to give me an idea. I will credit you. Hope to be hearing from you!!  
> -HMartin


	5. E-L-I-Z-A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lets just say nothing has been going Alex's way for a LONG time and the tides might now be shifting, he donesn't know yet though and sometimes you'll have to hurt to find your love again. Or the one where Alex is dellusional and has a flashback that will be very familiar.

August 30th, 1799  
Fort Stanwix: Medical Tent

My head pounded, every sound was extra loud and I felt like crying but even twitching and swallowing hurt. I opened my eyes but even that small movement hurt more than being shot point-blank in the back of the head and my eyelids felt heavier than concrete. The light flooded into my cracked open eyes and even the softest light felt like someone was holding a flashlight to my eyes. I groaned softly when I realised how painful it was to swallow, my throat was inflamed beyond compare and my head hurt at every slight movement.  
“Hamilton? Hamilton?! Are you awake?!” The voice over me was a hazy sound, I hardly recognized it. The last thing I recall was a gunshot. I don’t know who fired it, only that we both fell when the bullet, maybe bullets I don’t know, hit their mark. I groaned lightly and subtly moved my lips to form letters that wouldn’t become words. E-L-I-Z-A.

“Just go over there and ask her, Ham! The worst that could happen is she turns you out and down and you get what you deserve!” John snickers, sipping his beer and smirking.  
“John!” I turned on my toes to give him a harsh but still friendly and loving look to which he replied by hitting our glasses together and smirking.  
“Then you could dance with me and we’ll be the scandal of this whole affair!” John’s lips twisted into a fond but teasing smirk and he mocked dancing. I choked on my beverage of choice and snickered.  
“Shut Up Laurens, before I leave you to be all sad lonely and drunk by the drink table by yourself,” I watch as Eliza moves her way through the crowd, a shining beacon of light in the ballroom, I could swear she had a halo. Everything about her was gorgeous, perfect, and I knew I needed her to know how I felt about her.  
“Yeah, well maybe that way I’ll at least have a bit more luck with you gone,” John’s voice was teasing and brotherly, I allowed a smile to wave onto my lips and I swatted his direction, rolling my eyes and he laughed a deep, rich laugh. So genuine and pure, it was the laughter I longed to hear everyday, the laughter I seldom heard.  
“Okay okay, I’m going over. If this backfires…” I looked at John and he leaned over to me and pried my drink from my hand and took it tight in his.  
“You’re going to either come back heartbroken, in which case you will need this,” he waves my drink in his hand, slightly drunk so he swayed. When John got drunk he turned into a “it’s-5-o’clock-somewhere” kind of guy so he’d drown himself in alcohol, but he rarely drank so it’s alright. “OR, you’ll come back triumphant, in which case you’ll also need this,” once again the drink was waved in the air towards my face, “but in celebration, Alex.”  
“Yeah sure, just don’t drink it while I’m gone,” I rolled my eyes and began to walk to Eliza, straightening my uniform to look professional, but before I reached the beautiful girl, I ran into her father. “General Schuyler,” I saluted to him respectfully and he smiled at me and nodded, “to what do I owe the pleasure, sir?”  
“Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton, it’s refreshing to see you here and not locked away hard at work as Major General Washington has told me you have been recently. But what brings you here?” General Schuyler motioned for me to walk with him and I followed respectfully, folding my hands behind my back and looking to the General as we walked.  
“Major General Washington asked me to accompany him to Albany, he did fail to mention it was for a party, though I must admit, this is a very lovely party General Schuyler, sir. May I ask what it’s for?” I look at him in question, a bit embarrassed that I had no idea why this party was in play.  
“It’s my middle daughters’ coming of age party. She’s only a year younger than you, I’m sure you would like her, you should meet her soon,” General turned to me, pausing in his walk which only my quick reflexes could stop me before hitting him.  
“It would be an honour General Schuyler, sir. I’ve heard she was quite extraordinary though I can’t say I have had the pleasure of meeting her. Miss. Elizabeth Schuyler, correct?” I smiled softly at him and watched him.  
“Yes. I’m certain you’d like her though I must warn you,” he looked around swiftly and leaned into me to whisper something “she’s a lot to handle. Don’t be afraid though, I’m sure she can be managed eventually.”  
“With all due respect, General Schuyler, sir, I do not intend to “cage” or “manage” or even “change” your daughter. I would simply let her be herself, I find I’d much rather become situated with a woman who knew what she wanted and could stand on her own as well as against me if I’m wrong, more than a woman who submits and complies with every order. Love and marriage are not the military, General Schuyler, sir.” I said, looking the older man in the eyes. There was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite peg to an emotion.  
“I respect you Hamilton. You’re a well spoken man and I do hope you get into politics in the future, there’s money in politics, especially for a man who can speak with such ease as your own on such subject others would ignore. Come. I’ll take you to meet my Eliza, but do know,she is much like you. She is headstrong and unafraid to state her beliefs and opinions, even though, for a woman, they’re a bit… unorthodox...” General Schuyler walked me over to meet his daughter, I followed briskly, not wanting to make a poor first impression.  
“Thank you, sir.” I said to acknowledge what he’d said before. He nodded.  
“Eliza,” his daughter turned from what had previously occupied her to greet her father and my heart skipped a beat as I lay my eyes on her. She seemed to put on a fake smile, it also seemed she hadn’t noticed me. “I’d like to introduce you to, Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton. He’s General Washington’s aide-de-campe and he strikes me as someone you’d enjoy the company of,” I tailed behind General Schuyler out of respect, he was higher in rank than I and I knew how to behave, though I was glad he used my title, he could’ve just said Hamilton. When Eliza finally noticed I was standing we both stood salk still and after an eternity my manners came and slapped me in the face. If mother were still alive she’d have died of embarrassment for my lack of respect to Miss. Schuyler. I smiled and bowed deeply, taking her hand and kissing it as a blush lit her pale cheeks.  
“Miss. Schuyler you must forgive me. I was at a loss of words upon seeing you, and that's a rare thing,” I said. When I was thinking straight I could cover the accent I so disliked with my own tone and I could even sound more American than Carribean, so I was shocked and a bit embarrassed when I heard the tinge of my accent in my voice. Even General Schuyler noticed the accent I usually kept so well hidden out of unwarranted shame, he raised his eyebrows as the words slipped from my mouth accented. But Miss. Schuyler watched and wonder lit her eyes like fireflies at night causing my heart to melt once more. “Your beauty is told all around the camp, but more so your kindness. I respect that, but I shouldn't do all the talking, I'm very interested to get to know you if you don't mind getting to know me, that is.”  
“Mr. Hamilton, sir, let us get to know each other on the dance floor. I believe we could start there,” General Schuyler’s words came back to me as he smiled and shook his head, chuckling under his breath and walked away, “... unafraid to state her beliefs… for a woman, they’re a bit… unorthodox…” Then a grin crossed my face, I couldn’t believe she’d actually wanted to dance with me.  
“Are you asking me to dance?” I had and amused look on my face and she looked on at me, smiling challengingly.  
“Well should you wish to fight for my hand in marriage I expect you to dance. And yes, I am asking you to dance, Mr. Hamilton. So shall we?” I watched her, fascinated in how much personality this woman had as she motioned to the dance floor. I chuckled and offered my arm and she took it, it almost looked like she was glad and relieved I offered.  
“Then let us dance and get to know each other. I do hope you're not as charming to every man you meet because I fear I will lose your hand,” I kissed her hand again causing her to gasp in gentle surprise and blush in flustered happiness, “to another. And I can't bare that thought.”  
"We'll see Mr. Hamilton. I think you might be at an advantage here out of all my suitors though,” she seemed to comment softly and I tried to dance skillfully, she seemed impressed. She had a soft and smooth and very sweet dance. Every movement felt more intimate than the last and I loved it.  
“Why is that, Miss. Schuyler?” I asked as I spun her in the dance. She smiled devilishly as she returned, pressed against my chest. She was certainly a character, I smiled at her and chuckled deeply.  
“You possess a charm. I think I enjoy your presence more than I enjoy the others. They've bored me or itemized me. You do none of that. I feel you wouldn't mind if I spoke politics or if I told you that I planned on aiding in the war effort. I feel as though you wouldn't scoff if I told you I would rather be sewing blankets right now to give to families that have lost their homes and friends. Or studying to help in the medical fields with my Aunt Gertrude, inoculating soldiers so they can fight and tending in sick rooms so I can provide hope for the injured. Maybe hold the hands of brave men who are dying and read them a story so they don't die alone. Or cooking for the poor and hungry that were made victim by birthright and circumstances and have done nothing to deserve this, have done nothing to be given the life they lead currently. And I'd gladly marry a soldier as long as that man knows that I have a life to live just as he does. And I will protect and love him just as he will protect and love me. I do intend to make roots and start a family but I also need to find a man first who can allow me to live while we thrive together.” I stopped dancing to stare at her in wonder. I knew if that I hugged her it would be vastly inappropriate but I couldn’t help it. I hugged her. She gasped and then hugged me back. She relaxed and I felt like I wanted to protect her forever and never let her go. She was a beautiful woman and I never wanted this moment to end.  
“Miss. Schuyler please allow me to see you again after tonight. I don't think I could bare another day without you in my life…” I sounded serious as I took her hands and slowly shifted back into dancing.  
“Are you asking to court me, Mr. Hamilton?” Miss. Schuyler asked as she spun around again, a curious glimmer in her gorgeous eyes.  
“Yes,” I said nervously. The again with a bit more certainty, “yes, I believe I am, Miss. Schuyler. I know I am but a penniless orphan from the West Indies and you a rich Northern beauty from Albany, but I beg you to give me a chance and in time I'll prove to you I'm more than an orphan,” I had a look of pleading in my eyes, not begging, but a look that willed myself to hope, to at least let her give me a try. If it didn’t turn out, no harm done, but if we never tried… My accent was back and for once in my life, I didn’t care. The song drew to a close and she smiled, moving in closer to me to look me in the eyes. She raised her hand to my cheek and looked up at me, her hand resting lightly on the rough stubble of my cheek from weeks without shave.  
“Then you must call me-”  
“Eliza....” I opened my eyes. The pain was back but now it was pitch black outside, shadows throwing themselves up on the walls of the tent. A figure sat on my left side of the bed, watching me with tired and focused eyes. I knew they were there and I knew it was a woman because of the way my left hand was being held. When I looked over I choked back tears, nothing hurt more than seeing her sitting at my bed holding my hand, tired and broken.  
“I did everything… Everything for you and I’ve fought Heaven and Hell and broken and fixed, there was never a time though…” she broke into tears and gasped, it cut her off. I tried desperately to sit up, pain crawling through me, “hush hush, no, stay laying down love…” Eliza ran a cold hand through my hair and I lay back down. She then moved and stood, dropping my hand carefully. “There has never been a time though, where I didn’t miss you…” She finished and my heart broke a little more with every word. I opened my mouth to speak but she pressed a soft finger to my lips to silence me. I closed my mouth and she looked around the tent, tears still falling from her eyes. “I- you know there are some days…” she looked up trying to gain control again, a jagged breath cutting in, “where I hate you. I hate you and everything you did to me because what you did wasn’t fair. But everytime I think I hate you, I get these… flashbacks.... And I can’t put them out of my head. So I know I still love you and Alex, I think I always will love you, even though you’ve broken me to practically nothing. God I’m an idiot, and I’ll regret this, but if I forgive you, and I mean if, and you ever do something like this again... I will not only leave you and take our children, I will ensure you’re gone from the United States, or at least New York and Pennsylvania. Forever. And so help me God if I ever lay eyes on you again, you will wish you were never born. Am I clear?” Eliza looked down at me and I felt something flare in me that hadn’t been there in forever. Something I’m grateful to feel. Hope  
“As crystle, Elizabeth,” I said to her, my words heavily accented and broken due to lack of energy to make them anything more or even to cover the accent I dreaded. Her face broke and she lay by my side in the bed and burrowed her face into my neck. I gasped in shock and tears flowed from my eyes. I would have never thought… how much I didn’t deserve this… “Thank you… thank you so much. You’re too good for me...”  
“Please Alex… Call me Eliza… God I missed you, Alex. And no… you don’t deserve me. I deserve so much better than you and just remember that, Alex.” Eliza’s voice cracked and she held me tight. I melted slightly and I was glad she knew that I deserved less than her. Thank God for Eliza.  
“My Eliza… I love you.” I whispered into her hair, she smelled beautiful.  
“My Alex… I love you more.” She whispered back I we held each other and cried happily for everything until we fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY!!!! I'm NOT dead!!! I'm so inconsistant with my posting and I am so so sorry but, I SAW HAMILTON!!!!!!! It was AMAZING!!! So yeah! I hope you comment and like and subscribe or kudos. Please? I'll update faster. Now this chapter is a TAD bit shorter but I'm happy with it. I'm going to keep going on with this story and I don't think much of anything here aside from names and titles and few places that are historically accuarte. So thank you for reading. I love you all so so much.  
> Ever yours and adieu,  
> -H

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I know, it's a bit short but I'm came to me and this just came to me so I had to write it down! If you enjoyed please leave me a comment or something that allows me to know what you thought of this. It was very fun to write and I will be continuing this story but I do have major tests coming up so the next chapter might not come as fast as I'd like. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it, if not then leave me a comment to help me improve! Thank you!  
> -H


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